


Sheath

by yeaka



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Ficlet, M/M, Master/Servant?, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 12:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9272057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ghirahim enjoys his master in the morning.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: **Skyward Sword spoiler** : this is a mild AU of either Hyrule Warriors or Skyward Sword where Ghirahim is Link’s sword.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Legend of Zelda or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

There _might_ be stronger warriors, he thinks—a goddess, a princess, the imprisoned darkness that was meant to wield him—but this young knight-in-training has such _potential_ , and the more Ghirahim looks at him, the more that bond grows. Sleeping, Link looks so very _innocent_ , so sweet and tame. But he has a hero’s heart inside him, and Ghirahim never grows bored of staring.

The sunlight through the window finally slips its way over Link’s cheek, creeping towards his closed lashes. They tense once, his lips parting, and then his mouth opens wide in a yawn, and Ghirahim watches him grunt in annoyance and burrow deeper into his pillow, trying to avoid the light. Tucked under the same blanket, nestled on the same pillow, Ghirahim snuggles closer and lifts a hand to shield what he can. The shadow of Ghirahim’s palm protects Link’s still-closed eyes, and Link smiles faintly. Ghirahim murmurs in a slightly chuckling coo, _“Good morning, Master.”_

Link hums a note of answer but says no more than usual. Ghirahim dares to worm closer, so the tip of his nose touches Link’s, his knees squirming between Link’s, stiflingly hot beneath the blanket. Even were Link not so powerful, so courageous and triumphant, Ghirahim would be grateful for _this_ : how horribly cute he is first thing in the morning. How charming he is, even in rest. How sweet he smells. How unbearably handsome he is in every aspect of his body. Ghirahim’s seen the rest of the warriors that Link walks amongst, and none come close to his beauty. Ghirahim would serve no other. Ghirahim asks, _“What can I do to please you?”_

Link finally peeks one sky-blue eye open, quirking in another smile. He shifts one hand out from under the covers and lifts it to capture Ghirahim’s, fingers intertwining. Then Link lowers that hand to the mattress in what little space there is between them. He closes his eyes again, breathing deeply out, the message clear: nothing needs to be done. Link never demands anything. He’d be perfectly content if he could sleep through the day, but he’d also fret to find he’d missed a battle. So Ghirahim takes the initiative to lean over and press a kiss into his cheek. He wrinkles his nose like he’s going to laugh, but he lets Ghirahim go in for another.

Link’s only show of defense is to roll onto his back, not quite out of range. Ghirahim follows, draping his own lithe form over Link’s broader chest. Each brush of skin sends a shiver of delight up Ghirahim’s spine, and he showers Link in kisses for it, down along his neck and right over his throat. His pulse is beating fast. Ghirahim squirms right atop his master, straddling Link with a supple grace that doesn’t tangle the sheets. He spreads his fingers across Link’s chest, palms flattening over Link’s nipples. Ghirahim rubs each brown nub to hardness as he flicks his tongue beneath Link’s jaw, drinking in each pleasured groan it brings him. Then one of Link’s hands is in his hair, pushing, and Ghirahim understands. He obeys. He crawls lower, scrunching the blankets back, and kisses as he goes, straight down Link’s taut stomach to kiss the dip of his navel. Link’s hard shaft twitches with the attention, straining up against Ghirahim’s throat, and Ghirahim nuzzles into Link’s middle just to savour that feeling; his master _hard for him_ , grinding into him, aching for him. He licks the jut of Link’s hip and slowly makes his way lower. 

He licks his way around Link’s thigh, until Link’s cock is jutting proudly out before him, standing nearly straight up in the air. Ghirahim can’t help an appreciative purr, a sort of preening; _this_ is the man he finally caught, _his_ master, the one he’s bound to. He glances up to catch Link’s eye, wondering if Link has any idea how pleased Ghirahim is by this. But Link only looks serenely sleep-addled and a little hungry, his fingers raking fondly through Ghirahim’s white hair while he waits for Ghirahim to act. Ghirahim tilts his head and snakes out his tongue to wrap tight around the base, his lips stretching along the shaft. He gives Link one tender kiss after the other, while his own erection throbs against Link’s ankle. He’ll satiate himself only from _this_ : pleasing his master. It’s all he’s ever needed. He uncurls his tongue to drag it flat up the underside, and Link’s ragged moan is music to his ears. 

At the very tip, he presses his lips against the crowning head, and fixes Link with a burning, wicked look. Link’s lips have parted, panting, but he doesn’t demand more. Ghirahim behaves anyway. He plunges down in one sudden go, letting his mouth fill with his master’s thick girth, such incredible length, pulsing hot and firm. He swallows it to the very hilt, his throat giving way, his tongue dancing around it as he goes—his body isn’t so solid as his master’s, but malleable and made to _please_ , and he contorts it so, undulating around Link’s cock to milk it of everything he has—Link _screams_ like a great battle cry. Ghirahim treasures it as a victory and hollows out his throat to suck. He _worships_ Link’s cock. All ten of Link’s fingers knot in his hair, and he revels in the burn. He nuzzles crudely into Link’s crotch and slowly slides away again, sucking the entire time. 

He’s just made it to the head when Link slams him down again. He would’ve done it anyway, but the loss of his master’s control excites him more—Link shoves him in and bucks up into him, impaling him entirely. Ghirahim’s deep chuckle is muffled around it. Then Link’s pulling him back by the hair to do it again, and Ghirahim happily allows himself to be used, fucked by the force of both Link’s hands and hips. He lets that part of him relax, but his thighs writhe against Link’s leg, his balls already tightening—he tries to hold himself at bay, but he has such a glorious master, and he enjoys waking naked together like nothing else, and he can taste Link’s precum on his tongue—then Link shrieks a feral roar and bursts down Ghirahim’s throat. He fucks Ghirahim right through it, still bucking up and pushing Ghirahim down. Ghirahim fights Link’s grip to pull back as much as he can on the end of each thrust, just so he can taste Link’s seed on his tongue. That’s what finally ends him—he screams his own release around Link’s cock and spills himself over Link’s foot. His hands touch everything they can reach—from Link’s tight abdomen to the softness of his inner thighs to the knees clutching Ghirahim’s body. He’s washed away in his own pleasure, his head thinning out until he’s a dizzy wreck, struggling to breathe around his gag. 

Link tenderly pulls him off. Ghirahim never particularly likes that part; he misses the stretch of it immensely. But he lets himself be gently tugged back up, until he’s lying down at Link’s side, Link gingerly tucking the covers back over him. He didn’t mean to put Link back to sleep. Even Link has duties to attend to. But spent and satisfied, Ghirahim’s helpless to defy Link’s tired smile. Link softly strokes Ghirahim’s cheek and leans in for a chaste, quick kiss that nonetheless fills Ghirahim with utter adoration.

Link’s eyes close, and Ghirahim cocoons protectively around him, daring the light to try disturbing his beloved master once more.


End file.
